McKewitt Castle
by angelofjoy
Summary: Sam and Dean head north to investigate the disappearances of only females around the famously haunted McKewitt Castle.
1. Toward The Banks

**A/N: Hello Everyone.**

** This is my first attempt at a Supernatural fic. I hope this is a friendly fandom, I've heard that it was! I hope you enjoy what I have so far and I guess I should give a little background on the 'ghost'. I based most of one of the supernatural events on a well known Canadian haunted site. **

** White Otter Castle in Atikokan Ontario, is a three story log castle built between 1903 and 1914 on the banks of White Otter Lake. James Alexander McQuat (pronounced McKewitt) single handedly felled and moved all the trees and stack them interlocking to build the three story structure, and the turret that extends above to add a fourth floor. In total it is 41 feet tall and was built in its entirety by one man. He was building it for the wife that never arrived in Canada and four years after he had finished he died by drowning in the lake. There are many legends about Jimmy, including that when he died he was decapitated unexplainably, or that the grave located by his castle actually holds the bones of a bear, not his remains, and to this day, people claim to have had encounters with the ghost if James McQuat. (Google it and check out the pictures. Its kinda crazy that it could be built by one man.)**

** So in this story I've moved the castle to the banks of Lake Superior in northern Minnesota (as close to the actual site as I could get) and placed a little mischief around the area. I don't think this story will have any real connection to the underlying Supernatural plot, but it's kinda a stand alone mystery for the boys to solve. I hope you like it and stay tuned for chapter two.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything, at all, but a love for ghost stories and a true belief in the supernatural.**

**Please drop me a comment if you can!**

**Thanks**

Chapter 1: Toward the Banks

The soft rumble of the Impala was lulling Sam to sleep as the Winchester boys headed north toward the shores of Lake Superior and their next job. The soft thumping of the tires over the cracks in the pavement and the swish of the wind past the open window was something so familiar to both of the Winchester boys that it was like an unsung lullaby and the constant soothing sounds of their whole life time. It meant work and danger was on the horizon for them both, but the traveling, the journey to get to the destination, had always been something that both brothers enjoyed.

Sam Winchester had stumbled onto the legend and resent activity during another sleepless night as Dean sat at another nameless, generic, motel coffee table packing salt rounds and coming down from another finished case. They had been in Texas, had caught their culprit, proved that supernatural things can happen to the police who had been searching for a serial killer for months and then fled, leaving no traces of themselves and winding up in the motel in the deep south of Alabama. The disappearance of young women and the proximity to an established haunted site had sparked Sam's interest, but it took some convincing to get Dean onboard. He was tired and just wanted a few days to sit, recuperate and drive his Impala.

"The north shore of Lake Superior in mid June, seriously?" Dean had hissed. "Are you crazy? Do you know what the bugs are like up there?" he complained, "especially at this time of year? No dude, we're not going."

"People are disappearing," Sam argued.

"I'm sure we could find something to investigate in Florida, or maybe we could just go to Universal Studios for a fun trip. I wanna ride the _Back to the Future_ ride and you could… I don't shoot aliens and become a Man in Black. Don't you want a fun trip?" Dean asked optimistically. "We could check out that new Harry Potter World. You used to like those books, little brother, and I'm sure there will be hundreds of hot witches to check out. Let's go there."

"I'd prefer northern Minnesota," Sam stated from behind his laptop, "listen to this; three young women all from the same high school disappeared while at a pit party on the banks of the historical north shore."

"Yeah…and?" Dean asked.

"Witnesses say the girls were last seen heading back to their camp site near the McKewitt Castle, but by morning there were no signs that the girls were even there. No tents, no trash, nothing at all. Nothing was ever found."

"Maybe they didn't actually see the girl's camp site," Dean stated skeptically.

"The eye witnesses were all 'involved' with the girls. Over the course of the evening each couple had headed back to the 'tent' and then returned to the party," Same read off the report.

"Way to go boys!" Dean cheered.

"This isn't the first disappearance either," Sam explained, "two years ago, at this time of the year, a newly married couple were canoeing in the area and camped out in the same spot. After a long day the couple turned in for the night. The husband awoke the next day and his wife was gone. There wasn't even a trace of her being there. No clothing, nothing, the husband was later arrested but there was never any evidence found against him. He swears that he and his wife went to bed together and because of the cool northern nights they were sharing the sleeping bag."

"Oh yeah, sharing!" Dean smiled mischievously.

"And then three years before that a pair of twin sisters went out camping and never returned. They were never found; neither was any of their gear or their car. They all just vanished."

"Ok, so it's suspicious, lets call bobby and have one of his northern friends deal with it," Dean sighed. "Why do we have to go so badly and clear across the country at that?"

"Because the camp ground and the furthest camp site on which all of these disappearances happened is located only 100 yards from the legendary McKewitt Castle."

"And that's important because…?" Dean asked.

"Rumor has it that the man, who single handedly built the castle, for his future wide, now haunts the castle and has become part of the urban legend in the area. It's a tourist attraction. Each of these disappearances has speculation about the ghost and the possibility that the ghost of James McKewitt is abducting young women in place of his betrothed that never made it to the north shore, but died on voyage to the new world." Sam explained. "People actually go to McKewitt Castle in hopes of a supernatural encounter."

"Alright, we'll go," Dean sighed in defeat, loaded his shot gun and stood to start packing. "But seriously man, if the mosquitoes are horrible, I'm leaving and you can deal with Mr. Mc-whatever all by yourself."

And thus the Winchesters left Alabama to travel north toward Minnesota and the shores of Lake Superior to find them a rather popular and irregularly active ghost.


	2. The Blues is Alright

**A/N: So last weekend, while at my local Blues festival, I wrote this little scene and it really kinda helps to move into where I want to go with this story. Hope you like it.**

**Thank you to everyone for reading and alerting this story.**

**As always, I own nothing.**

**Enjoy!**

Chapter 2: The Blues is Alright.

Sam pulled the Impala to a stop just off the little town's main street, waking Dean up from his time as passenger and announcing their arrival at the scene of another one of their 'investigations'. The little town really wasn't much of anything but hamlet along a long stretch of Lake Superior's shoreline that branched off the highway that continued north to Canada. The side streets of the little town were bustling even at the early hour and there seemed to be more people then the little town could handle. The brothers looked around at the crowd and then back at each other.

Sam and Dean had driven all night, most of the previous day, and again through the night to arrive in the sleepy little town, only to find it awake and busy. There were people everywhere they looked and very little room for anything else.

"Where have you brought us?" Dean asked as he watched the people pass him by. "I have a feeling we won't even find a motel."

"I think this is the right place," Sam stated, looking at he map that he had just unfolded on the hook of the car. "But it said it was a town of less then a thousand people." He added in confusion.

"You boys lost?" an old man asked as he began walking a circle around the impala. "Nice wheels," he added and Dean grinned, "Don't see many of these anymore."

"She's my baby, I take very good care of her," Dean boasted.

"Good on ya, boy," the old man chuckled, kicked one of the tired and stood back pleased with what he was seeing.

"We're looking for McKewitt Castle," Sam stated as he rolled his eyes at the exchange between his brother and the stranger.

"You're in the right place if you're looking for ghost stories and a good weekend of the Blues." The old man smiled a toothless grin.

"The Blues?" Dean asked.

"On yes, son," the man chuckled, "this sleepy little town of only about 500 people wakes up with the Blues for one weekend only," the man explained as he moved back toward the sidewalk and walked on.

"One weekend, and this place end ups expanding from 500 people to 5000," Dean sighed, "no wonder the disappearances are a big deal here."

"It's a good time to hide something," Sam stated.

"And your research told you nothing about this?" Dean asked.

Sam shook his head.

"For one weekend only, people that have no idea what is going on here unexpectedly find them in a whole lot of trouble," Sam sighed. "That broadens the search; it's probably not even paranormal."

"We have to stop whatever it is," Dean said as he eyed two bikini clad women walking down toward the beach, "the Blues attacks bikinis!" he added slyly, "and you make fun of my music."

"You don't like the blues, you like mullet rock," Sam stated watching his brother with interest.

"Sammy, the Blues is where rock began!" Dean stated, "We're talking Jeff Beck, Buddy Guy, Jimi Hendrix, Billie Holiday, John Lee Hooker, Robert Johnson, do I need to remind you of the crossroads? B.B. King, Muddy Waters, the Rolling Stones, Stevie Ray Vaughan…"

"Alright, I get it, you like the Blues!" Sam hissed and Dean looked up and down the street, his eyes following women of all shapes and sizes.

"Looks like the ladies love the Blues too," Dean smiled mischievously. "You go and find city hall, or their hall of records, or whatever it is you do with your brain and stuff, and I'll mingle and get the lay of the land." He added as he headed off toward the beach.

"Dean, wait, what are you going to do?" Sam asked exasperation on his voice. "We may as well turn around and head out; there is nothing here but a stop on some crazy's tack to abducting women. It's not a job for us."

"Oh but it is," Dean smiled, "you said yourself this place holds a very famous, ghost, the least we can do is investigate, talk to some of the locals and see if there is anything to worry about."

"You're grasping at straws Dean," Sam sighed.

"You're the one that brought us here, so you go and satisfy your curiosity about these disappearances, and I'll find us a place to 'lay out weary heads' and see if I can find this camp ground you're so interested in seeing." Dean stated, "This isn't just a pleasure trip Sam, I'm serious about this job, really I am I think something is going on here," he added as his eyes wandered after another beautiful woman, "bet-cha she knows where I can find a good ghost story." He smirked and walked away from his brother.

"Why, in all the year, did I have to choose this ghost?" Sam asked himself as he turned and headed off in the other direction.


	3. The Ghost Motel

**A/N: Sorry it has taken so long to carry on with this story. My muse, I will admit, has fallen in other fandoms, but I do want to finish this story so I am going to try to work on it on a biweekly basis!**

**As always I own nothing.**

**Enjoy!**

Chapter 3: The Ghost Motel

Dean returned to the Impala, quite proud of his conquests, to find Sam lying across the back seat, his feet hanging out the open window, while he worked diligently at the strategically placed lap top and other odds and ends he had picked up through his investigation.

"Did you find anything?" Dean asked as he leaned in the driver's side window to be nearer to Sam's head rather then his feet.

"Everything I could dig up on McKewitt, his ghost, the castle and resent sightings. As well as, all I could manage to pull from news records on the disappearances and the victims." Sam sighed as his laptop rested on his chest and he awkwardly typed away at something he had been 'perusing', "you?" he asked.

"Well, I've been way more productive," Dean smiled and sprinkled napkins, receipts and whatever other piece of loose paper he could pull from his pocket all over his lounging brother. "I got tons of names, people who have seen the ghost and people who want to see him. I also managed a motel room, free breakfast coupons, and two tickets to the festival, and I'm telling you Sammy, it's an awesome line up!"

"You got a motel room?" Sam asked in shock.

"Um… yeah. I thought you'd be more impressed with the festival tickets. Buddy Guy is headlining tomorrow night! That's going to be a good show!" Dean stated and waved the tickets in his brother's face.

"Get me to that motel!" Sam demanded as he finally sat up, "I don't even care how you managed a room, I just want a shower!"

"It's a good story Sammy!" Dean smiled and climbed into the driver's seat as Sam climbed over the seat into the front. "I told the guy at the front desk I was a ghost hunter and he actually set us up right away."

"You're lying!"

"Not this time," Dean laughed.

As the brothers headed down the main street and off one little side road Sam understood why Dean had gotten the hotel room the way he gotten it. The sleepy little town, most of the year, was occupied only by ghost seekers and its locals, as their ghost was famous and active, otherwise, the blues festival and a late winter ice finishing derby were its only claims to fame.

"The ghost motel," Sam asked raising an eyebrow. "Really, they couldn't come up with a better name?"

"If we bring proof of an encounter with McKewitt we get the room for free!" Dean smiled. "This place is a tribute to the local legendary spirit!"

Sam shook his head and sighed, "So the blues and you guaranteed the manager that you'd bring back proof?" Sam asked. "That is what has you so excited?"

"Nah," Dean smiled, "I promised to take his kids up to the castle for a real ghost hunt!" he stated and waved the two breakfast coupons in his brother's face, "free rooms and breakfast! I'm amazing! That is why I am excited!"

"And what about the case?" Sam asked as he climbed out of the car and walked toward the door Dean has motioned toward.

"I'm betting we can get the room for the week if we make it look like we are really onto something!" Dean said as he fell onto one of the beds. "Well this is nice, and clean, for a place that is advertised as a haunted hotel." He added and looked at a painting on the wall.

"That's the castle," Sam stated following his brothers lines of sight, "and I really do think we're onto something but it's not McKewitt."

"What then?" Dean asked.

"I managed to get records on all the disappearances and more. There was a murder at the very first festival held here.

"You think that is the haunting?" Dean asked.

"It's worth looking into," Sam said. "It was the death of a transient making his way further north to the Canadian boarder; he was later tied to a series of serial murders across the country. He attacked a young woman as she was heading back to her camp site with some friends. The woman stumbled, broke a bottle she was carrying and managed to use the broken glass in self defense. She killed the man but was injured herself. She was taken to hospital, treated and released. Later that week, however, she disappeared from her camp site never to be seen again."

"Was that the first disappearance from that site?" Dean asked.

"Yup and all the rest happened like clock work on the same weekend. If there is a woman on the site she goes missing without a trace!" Sam explained.

"So don't rent the site to women!" Dean stated. "Sounds logical enough don't you think?"

"They try not to, but occasionally, one visitor or another doesn't believe in the town's folk's superstitions and that is where our coincidences start."

"So we need to check out that camp site!"

"And hope that no one goes missing before we can get to the bottom of this. We only have seventy two hours while this festival is happening." Sam explained.

"And we have no idea what kind of a spirit we're dealing with." Dean stated. "We had better head out for supplies before the crowds buy everything this little town has to offer."

"I'm showering first," Sam stated and bolted for the bathroom.

"Oh come on!" Dean yelled as the door slammed in his face.

"You go for supplies!" Dean heard Sam yell through the door.

"You are so going to get it little brother!" Dean hissed and Sam heard the motel room door slam behind him.


	4. Salt and Bug Spray

**A/N: So I have decided that this is probably going to be a light hearted story than I initial though it would be, that being said, I have jinxed myself before when saying a story was going to be fun and then I turned into one of the darkest works I have ever written. So we'll see where Sam and Dean take us. **

**Enjoy.**

**As always, I own nothing.**

Chapter 4: Salt and Bug Spray

Sam stepped out of the gloriously steamy shower and toweled off before exiting, or trying to exit, the washroom. It was only then that he realized the door was barricaded shut.

"Dean!" he yelled as panic started to set in. It was a common reaction knowing what he knew and having experience what he had experienced over the years, months, days of chasing everything evil and unexplained all over God's green earth and beyond, "Dean are you alright?" he called as he pushed all his weigh against the door.

"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. When are you going to learn?" Dean chuckled from just beyond the door.

Rolling his eyes as he let the panic slip away, Sam stepped back knowing that he didn't have enough run up to move the door without painful injury to himself as he sprang forward, launching his shoulder into the door and felt the pain radiate from his shoulder down to his finger tips.

It move; only slightly and Sam could see what was blocking his way. "What have you done?" he asked with a sigh as he looked out the crack in the door and had a perfect view of his brother.

"You said I'd better get supplies before everything was sold out!" Dean smirked mischievously.

"Really, you want to play this game now?" Sam grunted as he pushed at the door again and managed to squeeze through the tiny opening. "Why would a summer crowd of Blues fans buy out a whole town's supply of Rock Salt?" he asked angrily as he looked at the mountain stacked like sand bags against the washroom door.

"Oh the 'Bluesies' probably wouldn't but the ghost hunters might, if they know anything about anything at all." Dean shrugged as he fell onto one of the beds. "What I was worried about was the bug spray!" he stated and smirked again causing Sam to turn toward the other bed.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Sam practically yelled as he eyed the perfectly stacked pyramid of spray cans in the middle of the other bed.

"It's impressive isn't it?" Dean laughed, "That right there is a work of modern ingenuity!"

"Did you get anything truly useful?" Sam sighed as he pulled on a clean t-shirt.

"I knew we were out of detergent and this place has a Laundromat!" Dean smiled and motioned to the box on the table.

"Dean, can you be serious for one second?" Sam asked with another overly exaggerated sigh.

"I am serious, I'm seriously amazing. Aren't you wondering how I managed to buy all this stuff, barricade you in with a mountain of salt and balance those containers on an unstable surface to build a perfect retail pyramid of spray cans?" Dean asked proudly.

"No, I wasn't wondering that at all. I was wondering if you found out anything useful." Sam stated and turned toward his duffle bag.

"Well, for your information, I have mad skills. Just sayin!"

"Can we be serious about our case for a few minutes?" Sam asked.

"No, Sammy, I told you from the very beginning this was a waste of time. Now I'm just playing with you!" Dean smiled, "so you can either give it all up, enjoy the festival for what it is and we'll hit the road when the weekend is over. Just relax for a little while."

"I really think something is going on!" Sam sighed and began flipping through his files once more, "maybe there is something in Dad's journal."

"Whatever little brother, go to town!" Dean sighed and flung the book across the room at Sam. "You stay cooped up here, I'm leaving. Have fun cleaning up!" he added and purposely bumped Sam's bed causing the bug spray pyramid to topple over with a crash.

"Leave the car," Sam hissed as he watched his brother march toward the door as if he had won some crazy Dean World Championship.

"Whoa, why?" Dean asked as he spun on his brother, "you know the Impala is off limits in a prank war!"

"I'm not going to do anything to the car, and I'm not getting involved in another one of your juvenile prank wars!" Sam stated as he shook his head.

"So I win?" Dean smirked.

"Sure, you win!"

"You're no fun!" Dean sighed and flung the keys in Sam's direction, "where you gonna go?"

"Police department, maybe up to the castle, I really think something is up." Sam answered.

"Well if you find anything interesting you know where to find me!" Dean smiled.

"At the festival with as many drunken women as you can find?" Sam asked sarcastically.

"It's called the beer garden, it's classy!" Dean winked and walked out, leaving Sam alone with a mountain of salt and a collapsed tower of bug spray.


	5. A Close Encounter

**A/N: Happy New Year! Hope you enjoy this update!**

**As always I own nothing!**

Chapter 5: A Close Encounter

Sam shook his head as his brother left and eyed the mess with distain as he finished dressing and developing his plan of attack. Sure he'd said he wouldn't retaliate but, time permitting, he wasn't one to give up a good war with his elder brother. Although Dean was a 'mother trucker', Sam had spent nearly three years in a fraternity and had made his mark with the pledges but for now Sam was convinced that something really was going on in the small sleepy town and Dean had done him a favor with the rock salt. If he couldn't figure out what was going on at least he could sneak out to that camp site and salt the area. Some precautions were better then no precautions, so Sam loaded up the back seat of the Impala and headed off in search of answers.

Sam's first stop, though he'd spent a good long time pouring over maps, was the camp site in question as hard as it was to find it. When he did finally find the campground, paid an inordinate amount of money for a parking pass that he was sure he wouldn't use very much, and headed into the deserted, or relatively deserted grounds, and after way too much information from the park ranger of the camp grounds, Sam finally headed onward toward the castle and the farthest camp site in the park.

Fifty one weeks out of the year, and yes even in the winter time, the site in question was highly sought after as it was the one site that backed onto the woods that bordered the castle and was the site to reportedly have the highest numbers of recorded sightings of Jimmy McKewitt's ghost. The one remaining week of the year there was literally a bidding war to obtain the site because of the festival and the popularity even with the unexplained disappearances.

When he finally pulled the Impala into the last marked public parking space he loaded a bag of rock salt into a back pack and began the slow trek into the far end of the camp ground. He was surprised to find every last spot occupied with tents and trailers of all sizes, some even larger then the motel room he and his brother, but mostly Sam, was staying in because he knew it would be unlikely to see Dean for the duration of the weekend as long as he was drunk. As he walked it didn't really surprise him, however, that the veritable tent city was deserted and by the time he reached the end of the road, Sam almost thanked God that he was all alone on the road and at the camp site.

On the site he found an abnormally large mobile home and a small grouping of four chairs around a camp fire pit that was stone cold out. Checking, as a man who knew well enough, Sam got to working quickly lining he perimeter of the site with the rock salt knowing that he'd just ended any chance of the earth producing any vegetation for years to come, but as long as the circle stayed intact no ghosts would get into the site.

"So much for attracting Jimmy," Sam stated out loud when he'd finished, "but at least the women will be safe."

"If it is a ghost you're dealing with," an old man stated from the road.

"You know what's going on out here?" Sam asked as he stepped into the road, away from the salt and came nearer to the old man.

"Been out here every year since the first one trying to warn the poor souls about the danger, but they don't want to listen to a crazy old man," the man chuckled.

"Are you a hunter?" Sam asked.

"Oh no son, unless chasing this one ghost for years is gonna make me a hunter." The man smiled. "I mean I know all the salt tricks and burn the bones, but I haven't been able to stop what's going on out here so I just try to warn 'em as best as I can."

"Do you think it's a ghost?" Sam asked.

"Well now, it looks like a ghost and acts like a ghost but I can't tell you what it does with the women it takes." The old man sighed.

"You've seen it?"

"Haven't you been told there is a lot of paranormal activity goin' on 'round here?" the old man chuckled.

"I've heard rumors," Sam smiled skeptically.

"Hence the salt?" the man teased.

"I may be keeping Jimmy away as well."

"Oh don't you worry about that. He's been seen all round this park. He's got lots of space to roam." The old man shrugged, "but I can't imagine he'd like to see another ghost encroaching on his territory, especially seeing as he's harmless and this newcomer is making a mess of a good thing."

"You said you've seen the other ghost, was it female or male, or would you say a poltergeist?" same asked.

"It's a woman, young, wearing all white. Her neck is cut from earlobe to earlobe."

"And you've only ever seen her this weekend?" Sam asked.

"She's looking for her husband," The old man answered with a nod. "Seems she finds him cheating, or men she things are her husband, and she takes out all her wrath on the other women." The old man stated. "I've been trying to find her bones for a long time but I can't say the search has turned up anything. She has to be near to this site, or why would she be here?"

"True," Sam stated and looked off into the dense woods.

"Nothing but forest in that direction, the castle is to the west and the lake and festival grounds to the east." The old man explained. "The music should be pickin' up any time now."

"I'm not here for the music," Sam smiled.

"Neither am I son."

"Where's the highway from here?" Sam asked.

"I believe, if you trek through there." The old man pointed north across the camp site and into the dense forest Sam was staring into.

"Then I think that is where I'd better start looking." Sam smiled.

"Well good luck to you my boy. I'll keep my eyes peeled around here." The old man stated and turned toward the trail that led to the castle.

"Wait, I didn't catch your name, in the event I need to find you for more information." Sam stated as he rushed toward the old man.

"Oh people 'round here call me a lot of things, crazy for one." The old man laughed, "But you, Sammy, can call me Jimmy. And if you need me, come on down to the castle. Just leave the salt behind." He added and vanished right before Same Winchesters eyes.


	6. Festival Hangover Day One

**A/N: Dean's hangover in this chapter is bases on RL experience, not mine, but I've seen my brother this hung over before.**

Chapter 6: Festival Hangover Day One

Dean awoke the following morning fully clothed, almost completely sprawled out on the floor, with one leg resting precariously on the end of the bed. His head was pounding, his ears were ringing and he remembered very little of the previous day, though it still sounded like drums beating inside his skull. He sat up, way too fast, and had to lie down again to make the room stop spinning before he pulled himself into one of the two beds and squinted at the brilliant sun coming in through the open motel window.

"Oh God; turn it off!" Dean sighed as he slammed his eyes shut and covered his head with a pillow.

The familiar rumble of the impala sounded inordinately loud through the walls, and the pillow Dean clutched around his head. Moments later Sammy walked in slamming the door behind him and graciously closing all the curtains in the motel room after having dropped his back pack on the ground with a loud thud, in time with the pounding in Dean's head.

"You are my favorite," Dean stated hoarsely once the room was bathed in black.

"Good time at the festival?" Sam asked sarcastically.

"Shh, shh, shh," Dean hissed, "softly Sammy, speak softly."

Dean could hear Sam riffling through his bag before something hard, and with a rattle, hit his chest.

"Come on Dean we have work to do. Get up, take some pain killers and let's go!" Sam ordered loudly.

"Whoa, nope, not going to happen." Dean stated after trying to sit up and the room began to spin as Sam appeared to have two twin brothers.

"Gah, you're not my favorite anymore Sammy! Turn off the sun." Dean cried as Sam threw open the curtains once more.

"Get in the shower before I put you there!" Sam ordered. "We have a body to find and burn the bones. So let's get a move on."

"You actually found something?" Dean asked as he rolled off the bed for the second time in a twelve hour period and buried his aching head in his hands.

"Yes, Carmen Von Der Bloom was killed after having caught her husband cheating." Sam explained as he threw a news paper clipping onto the floor right in front of Dean's face, "She was wondering drunk and distraught through the area when she came across a drifter who had set up camp at the infamous McKewitt Castle camp grounds. The body was never found but blood, her clothing, hair and semen were all found around the camp site. The drifter was long gone by the time the police found the crime scene." Sam explained.

"And you believe that Carmen is the one taking revenge?" Dean asked sarcastically. "What about Jimmy?"

"I believe that Carmen is the lady in white looking for her cheating husband and taking revenge on any woman she finds," Sam answered. "Jimmy is just a peaceful ghost who is none of our concern."

"No one has seen a lady in white!" Dean sighed.

"I saw her last night." Sam countered, "I saw Jimmy too."

"Bullshit!" Dean stated.

"It's true. I camped out in the woods after having spent most of my evening within the hall of records and after having salted the earth of the camp site." Sam explained as he grabbed his brother by the sodden shirt and cringed at the thought of what was soaking into the sticky fabric before he steered his brother toward the washroom.

"If you salted the earth then we're good to go!" Dean sighed as he leaned on the door jam and Sam passed by him to wash his hands.

"Not so much. The salt just made her mad and she went on to terrorize the rest of the camp grounds. She didn't take anyone that I could see but many; _many_ campers saw and heard her. I'm sure it's the headline news in today's paper. Even if the festival was amazing, ghosts trump living legends." Sam explained. "We need to put her to rest. I followed her as far as I could in the dark, hoping to find something, but I was unlucky."

"That's one active ghost." Dean stated after a few moments of contemplating his own stability and then he shut the washroom door behind himself.

"He's going to be next to useless." Sam sighed as he heard the shower start and a clumsy Dean fall into the bath tub.

Sam made a mental note to check on his brother if Dean didn't emerge in twenty minutes but for the time begin he crashed out on one of the motel room beds and rested after a long and very interesting night.


	7. Swamp Lands

**A/N: I know its been a while since I updates, but I have to tell you I have written the end of this story and over the course of this week I plan to post what is left of it, for the select few that are reading it. Thanks guys!**

**Enjoy.**

Chapter 7: Swamp Lands

After having made sure that Dean was alright, Sam packed up his things again and loaded up the impala. There was no way he was going to stay behind when there was still searching to do and he really didn't care if Dean was hurting after his day, and night, of merriment, he was going out into those woods to help whether he liked it or not.

Sam walked back into the motel room just in time to see a groggy Dean open the bathroom door and steam billowed out behind him.

"You do not want to go in there," Dean sighed and fell face first onto the bed.

Sam walked around his brother and saw why Dean has warned him.

"Well get back in there in clean up!" Sam stated completely disgusted by the state of the bathroom and the fact that Dean had managed to miss the toilet and the bathtub completely when he vomited.

"I don't think that's going to happen," Dean groaned and curled into the fetal position. "Whoa watch out," he yelled a moment later and bolted past Sam again and slammed the bathroom door behind him.

"Great," Sam sighed and walked out to the impala and headed into town alone to get cleaning supply because, even though they were staying in a motel, he was not going to put the cleaning staff through that.

After having cleaned up Dean's mess and having let Dean _crash_ for a good hour Sam finally shook his brother awake, slammed two more Advil into his hand and told him to get in the car. That was it, they had wasted enough of the day and Sam really wanted to get back out on the hunt.

Dean slept the whole drive as Sam took the impala away from the camp grounds and toward the south, down along the highway and in the complete opposite direction of where the sightings had been, but still along the same stretch of highway and well in the path that the murderous traveler might have come through. Sam stopped the car in a rest area and shut down the engine.

"Seriously do we have to do this today," Dean whined as Sam hit him across the chest to wake him up.

"Yes, come on, I managed to follow the _lady in white_ out here last night. She wandered in these woods, freaked out a few drivers as they came down the high way and disappeared before my eyes as I followed her down an overgrown trail. I want to see where the trail leads. We might get luck and find the bone." Sam explained as he pulled two packs out of the trunk and handed Dean a shotgun and grabbed the EMF meter for himself, and then headed into the woods before Dean could protest again.

"Sam, this is quite possibly the most unfeeling, horrifying, insensitive, moronic, sadistic thing you've ever done to me. I mean we've had prank wars in out time but this; this takes the cake, pie and ice-cream. I may never forgive you for this," Dean whined as he was weighted down with bags of salt and weaponry, while mosquitoes buzzed annoyingly in his ears and his head drummed along with the beet of Sam's pace.

"I hate you too Dean," Sam sighed.

"You suck," Dean added.

"I told you there was a case here but you didn't listen and you ran off to get wasted and now when I need your help you blame it all on me." Sam complained as he too was weighted down, being eaten by bugs and no closer to solving the case then he was the night before. "Don't you think that maybe I hate his too?"

"But you're not hung over," Dean whined, "why couldn't this have waited a little longer? Why couldn't you let me sleep it off?"

"I didn't get to sleep at all last night." Sam grumbled, "why should you?"

"I spent a hundred dollars on weekend passes to the blues festival." Dean spat, "and now I'm missing it to be traipsing around the back wood, with millions of mosquitoes not even sure we know where we are going or what we are looking for. This is not my idea of a good time."

"I just finished cleaning up your vomit off the bathroom floor!" Sam yelled fed up with Dean's whining.

"Shh, Sammy, not so loud please, it hurts!" Dean whined and clutched at the sides of his head.

"Oh my God, I hope we are stuck out here all night so that our murderous ghost can scream like a banshee in your ears and make you miserable…" Sam's rant came to an abrupt stop when the over grown trail they had been following came to just as abrupt a stop. "No wonder I didn't find anything." Sam sighed and threw his pack and gun to the ground.

"Seriously a swamp, really, you have got to be kidding me!" Dean grumbled.

"This has got to be the place," Sam stated as his EMF meter went crazy.

"Yippy," Dean said sarcastically, "how are we supposed to find a body in that, let alone salt and burn the bones."

"I don't know," Sam sighed and swatted a mosquito away from his ear.

"Well you had better come up with an idea fast or I'm going back into town and getting a couple of jerry cans and burning down this whole God damn forest!" Dean yelled then felt dizzy and had to sit down.

Sam sat down by his brother, removed his shoes and socks and then headed toward the mucky, murky waters of the mosquito breeding grounds.

"I hope you get _Herpes_!" Dean stated maliciously as he watched Sam struggle to move through the thick tangle of weeds and mud.

"_Herpes_, really?" Sam asked with a roll of his eyes and ready to fling mud at his brother, "_Escherichia coli_ maybe, _Giardia lamblia_ probably, _Cryptosporidium_ I almost guarantee it, but _Herpes_ is a stretch even for you Dean. You're not gonna get _Herpes_ from a swamp."

"Fine, whatever, _West Nile Virus_!" Dean corrected and leaned his aching head on his knees.

"Would you just get in here and help me?" Sam asked angrily.

"Oh hell no, I'm wearing my good jeans."

Sam hurled a mud covered, dripping, stick he'd grabbed and dislodged from the bottom of the swamp, and because of his hang over state Dean was too slow to dodge the attack.

"Um Sammy, that wasn't a stick," Dean stated and almost threw up again.

"And this isn't just a swamp," Sam sighed as he trudged out of the mud carrying not one, but two, human skulls.

"I hate you so much right now Sam," Dean sighed and rolled up his pant legs, not that it was going to do him any good.


	8. Body Dump

**A/N: Another update in less then a week! Yay! **

Chapter 8: Body Dump

Working long into the sweltering hot summer day, Sam and Dean proceeded to excavate several bodies' worth of bones and artifacts out of the mucky, smelly, surly contaminated swamp.

"Seriously Sam, do you see this?" Dean asked as he motioned to the pile they had already gathered. "How did local authorities not find this?"

"I guess this is too far away, the opposite direction, of their investigation." Sam sighed and tossed another clavicle to Dean.

"We're never going to find everything and who's to say the bones of our ghost are even in here?" Dean complained. "I say we get the gas and just torch and salt the whole area."

"We can't do that," Sam sighed, "this is a delicate ecosystem out here. Salting the whole place would kill everything and, like you said, we don't even know that this is the right place."

"Holy crap let's just report it to the local authorities then and get the hell outta here. You look like you have the plague and we may just catch that out here." Dean stated as he motioned to his brothers bare and blotchy torso.

"They're just mosquito bites." Sam stated and went back into the swamp where he pulled out more human remains.

"This could quite possibly be the most disgusting thing you've ever made me do." Dean grumbled and followed Sam back into the swamp. "Bah! Oh my God something just touched my leg!" Dean yelled and bolted for the bank again.

"It was just a branch," Sam sighed, "a plain one this time."

By the time the sun started to set Sam and Dean were dehydrated, exhausted and ready to call it a day. Sam wanted to make it back to the camp grounds before darkness had completely settled but he also knew that they couldn't just leave a pile of bones out in the open.

"Well what do you suggest genius?" Dean asked as he tried to scrape layers of mud off his own skin.

"We should probably torch that," Sam stated motioning to the pile, "just to be safe."

"We don't have enough lighter fluid for this soggy, disgusting mess. I say we salt the pile, wait till its dark enough that no one is going to stumble onto this and come back bright and early and finish the job." Dean suggested.

"And what if someone gets taken while we're not paying attention?" Sam asked with a sigh.

"You wanna stay and guard the bodies while I do and patrol the camp grounds?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Sam agreed to the idea, "call Bobby when you're in range and see if he doesn't know a cleansing ritual or something that we can use out here rather then trying to find all the bones in this crap." Sam added as he cut open a bag of rock salt and poured it all over the pile. "You had better come back for me."

"I'm not that big of a jerk." Dean stated and replaced his shoes. "If nothing happens at the camp site I'll assume you found the right bones and then I'll come back for you."

"Leave the shot gun," Sam sighed and traipsed back into the water.

"Don't die of dysentery, little brother," Dean said over his shoulder and started the long trek out of the bush.


	9. A Bag Of Bones

Chapter 9: Bag of Bones

Sam continued to work long after Dean had left and still with every dive into the shallow, mucky water he came up with more.

Exhaustion had started to set in long before Dean left but until he knew that he'd done all he could do, Sam just kept on going back into the swamp. Pushing himself to his limits, but determined to bring about some kind of truth to the business he was dealing with.

With the darkness came more of the nocturnal sounds and, to add to the constant buzzing of mosquitoes, Sam heard the croaking of fogs and the hissing of other creatures he didn't even know of. Fireflies flashed through the darkness and the moon and the stars reflected off the still, standing, water that could be seen through the algae and the weeds, just before Sam trampled into it again, disturbing the surface.

"Please let there not be bears out here," Sam sighed to himself as he crawled out of the swamp and back toward the pile of bones.

Working with whatever he could finds Sam lit a small fire, needing some kind of light in the darkness, other than the fireflies. Even after the sweltering hot day the dampness of his clothing gave Sam a chill and he seriously considered staying by the fire until Dean got back but something tugged at his conscience and he knew that the best thing for him, to keep him safe because the shot gun full of salt rounds wasn't going to do anything against bears, was to keep making as much noise as he could in the great northern woods.

The fire crackled and popped as Sam threw on a few more large branches from a fallen and rotting ever green and then, in the glow of the rising sparks, he headed back into the cold, smelly water.

The darkness definitely made it harder to work and Sam hoped that it would soon be over, but with every subsequent dive, mud gave up something new until Sam's foot sank into the mud and he couldn't get it out.

"What the hell," Sam gasped as he felt something tighten around his ankle.

Reaching down into the thick deep silt Sam managed to free his foot, but the stranger feeling was that of the material that was buried in the mud. It wasn't a tree branch or vine from the weeds, but a fabric strap that felt like nylon or plastic. With all his might Sam pulled at the strap but the mud was holding whatever it was in place. Diving down into the water, covering his whole body now, Sam worked to find the edges and free whatever he'd found from the bottom. Two more dives and Sam planted his feet into something solid and pulled again. This time there was some give, a gurgling in the mud and a slopping noise but still the object would not be freed from its hiding place.

Down again Sam dove and sunk up to his elbows in the silt at the bottom of the swamp. He managed to force his arms down and around what he now knew was a duffle bag, he'd felt the zipper on one side of the bag and from the feel of thing, Sam was sure the bag was full of bones. Again he pulled with all his might, loosing oxygen with every second that he stayed under the water and exerted his energy but finally he felt something give and he rushed to get out of the sickening swamp with the duffle bag in tow.

Sam lay still, panting for air on his back with the heavy bag beside him. The fire was starting to die away and he knew that he needed to keep that burning but he was just too tired. He needed to rest and as he lay there, listening to the night sounds, he felt himself slipping away to sleep. That was until he heard a scream.


	10. The Lady In White

**A/N: Here's another short update, all the action is to come in the next chapter. **

Chapter 10: The Lady in White

Dean's call to Bobby proved useless. If there was a cleansing spell he'd need to find it before Dean lost cell service when he trekked back through the dark, creepy forest to find his swamp monster of a brother and the graveyard they had inadvertently stumbled upon. He's also need time to prepare, all kinds of ingredients he was pretty sure he wasn't going to find in the back woods of Northern Minnesota, and make sure his dictation was correct. Nope, the spell would be useless if they ever found one and they didn't have time for that.

Dean made a quick b-line for the nearest gas station and then headed up to the camp grounds to wait around where Sam had told him to look. The sun had long since set but the sound of the festival still filled the air and Dean sat in the Impala with the windows rolled down just listening to the smooth blues that filled the night. A little part of him was amused to think that his brother was off sloshing about in a swamp well he was laying across the seat in his beloved vehicle, at the same time he would have killed for a half dozen showers, but again there just wasn't time for that.

"What I wouldn't do for a beer," he sighed to himself, still smelling of the terrible swam but at least he wasn't out there anymore.

The longer Dean waited the heavier his eyelids became and he drifted in and out of sleep with the dips and sways of the sounds of the music. Then it ended and cheering could be heard off in the distance and the festival was over for the night.

Dean rolled on his side lounging across the bench seat of his beloved car and just listening as people started to arrive in the camp grounds for the night. There were moments when it sounded like the party was going to go on all night, and Dean just wanted to join in, and then there were other moments when quiet set in and Dean could feel himself drifting away with the sleep that was calling out to him.

Suddenly Dean was awoken by the sound of manic screaming and some one banging on the passenger door window.

"Whoa old man calm down!" Dean yelled as he opened the window to the man that was wailing on it.

"Are you Dean, brother of Sam?" the old man asked as he reached into the car and unlocked the door and let himself in.

"Yeah, what do you think you are doing?"

"I'm trying to wake your sorry ass up, because you are a hunter and you just missed the lady in white as she grabbed another young woman and headed off that way!" The old man stated and pointed out the back window of the impala. "So drive damnit!"

"Which way?" Dean yelled as he turned the key and the impala's engine roared.

"That way!" the man yelled and grabbed the shot gun out of the back seat as Dean slammed the car into reverse, burned out his tired and caught a glimpse of the ghost heading into the woods in the direction, roughly, of where Sammy was.

"Hold on!" Dean stated as the old man leaned out the window and fired off one round into the darkness.

"Don't tell me to hold on son, just get me close enough to save that poor girls life!"

Dean hammered on the accelerator but the ghost was fast and the night was dark and Dean and the old man were quickly running out of road to follow.

"We're going to have to go by foot and take this into the wood," Dean stated as he drifted the impala to a stop in the same place Sam had parked in before they made the first trek into the bush.

"I can't go with you!" The old man stated and fell into the seat. "Take this and save that girl! Go!" he said and tossed the shot gun back at Dean.

"What do you mean you can't go?" Dean asked as he rushed around the car and off toward the woods but as he looked back into the passenger seat he found it empty. The old man was no where to be found.


	11. Down To The Bottom

Chapter 11: Down to the Bottom

Sam rolled over at the sound of the scream and hit the bag that lay beside him. He opened his eyes quickly and was blinded by the glow of the fire's coals. Another rustle and a splash and Sam forced himself toward the swamp. Another blood curdling scream and Sam finally was able to see what was going on as the _lady in white_ disappeared into the water and the young woman she had taken struggled to break free. The young woman's head broke the surface of the water as she gasped for air momentarily and then she disappeared again.

"I'll teach you to cheat," the woman in white screamed as Sam rushed into the swamp water as the young woman continued to struggle against the ghost that was pulling her downward.

"Let her go!" Sam yelled as he reached the young woman and wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled as hard as he could, but the ghost was vigilant and pounced on Sam instead.

"You son of a bitch! You cheating, lying, scum!" the ghost shrieked and grabbed Sam around the neck and dragged him down.

"Help me!" The young woman coughed but something was pulling her and Sam down into the silt of the swamp bottom.

Suddenly there was a crack like thunder, just as Sam's head went below the surface of the water and for a moment the pull of the bottom was released. Sam struggled to the surface gasping for air but when he didn't hear the woman with him he dove back under.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled from the bank ask he watched his brother dive back below the surface.

Dean rushed forward now, the shot gun ever raised and ready, when suddenly he felt a cold, wet hand on his shoulder. He spun around and came face to face with the lady in white.

"You were cheating, you son of a bitch!" The ghost shrieked and shoved Dean backward into the swamp but he managed to fire off his shot gun once more causing the ghost to vanish.

"Dean!" Sam yelled as his brother splashed down into the swamp.

"God I hate these bitches!" Dean sputtered as he came out of the swamp water again.

"The bones Dean, you have to burn the bones!" Sam yelled as he struggled against the pull of the young woman and the silt bottom that was dragging him down.

"Sam, there are hundreds of bones!" Dean yelled as he grabbed onto his bother and pulled.

"The bones in the duffle bag!" Sam yelled as the lady in white appeared again, shrieking and the young woman was forced under the surface once more.

Dean bolted for the shore and felt around for the shotgun that he had left with Sam. He found it, fired it, and again the air was full of gasping cries and undead shrieks.

"Dean the bones!" Sam yelled once more and Dean scrambled to throw the duffle bag onto the fire but it was still soaked through.

"Please let there be fuel left!" Dean yelled as he grabbed Sam's pack and found the salt and a half empty can of lighter fluid.

"Dean Hurry!" Same yelled as the pull on him from the silt mud became stronger once again and Dean looked up just in tome to see Sam disappear below the waters surface.

Down like there was no bottom at all, Sam could feel the mud and water rising all around him, the pull getting ever stronger. His head was below the water now, so was that of the young woman and the mud was up to his ribs, and still he was being sucked down into the earth by an invisible force. He fought with all his might, pushing at the mud, trying to pull himself and the young woman out of the water, but the ghost seemed stronger. He could feel the burning in his lungs, the unmistakable panic and urge to breathe but there was no air, there was only water and mud, and soon he'd be done.

Ripping open the salt Dean hurled the duffle bag onto the fire and emptied the entire bag of salt onto the soggy mess of bones and fabric. As the flames died under the soggy mess Dean sprayed every last drop of the lighter fluid onto the bag and the flames erupted again.

Another shriek rang out in the night as Dean threw himself into the swamp after his brother.


	12. Life Is A Highway

**A/N: This is the last chapter for this story. I hope you liked my first attempt at a supernatural story. When I started it I was way into the show, now I'm kinda preoccupied. This doesn't mean that I wont write more Supernatural fic, I'm just busy with Five-O for now…but thank you all for reading and commenting. It really meant a lot to me.**

**Enjoy**

Chapter 12: Life is a Highway

Dean reached into the silt once more and grabbed onto his brothers still struggling shoulders and then, as if by magic, Dean was able to pull Sam and the young woman free.

The shrieking in the night died away as the plastic and nylon of the duffle melted in the flames and the bones of the murdered woman fueled the fire as Sam and Dean and the rescued victim dragged themselves out of the mud.

"What just happened?" the young woman asked as she gasped for air and collapsed on the bank of the swamp.

"You don't want to know." Dean sighed as he ripped off his soaking and stinking jacket and threw it to the grounds. "How did you know whose were the right bones?" Dean asked as Sam collapsed panting by the fire.

"Lucky guess, they were the only bones in the bag and everything was out in the open," Sam explained and coughed up the dirty, contaminated water that he'd swallowed in the ordeal, "it seemed logical."

"Yup, you have God damn horse shoes up your ass," Dean stated and tried to help his brother sit up, "a lucky guess…"

"Who are you people?" the young woman sobbed as she started to fall into shock.

"We're hunters," Sam stated and rummaged in his bag for the safety blanket he always kept in there bottom. He wrapped it around the young woman. "We should get you to a hospital." He added and tried to stand.

"No one is ever going to believe this!" the young woman sighed as she began to shake.

Sam and Dean stood, supporting the young woman between them, and turned in the direction of the waiting Impala.

"Well the people in this crazy town might just believe you if you tell them it was a ghost attack." Sam stated. "This town is famous for its ghosts."

"I came for the blues!" The young woman sobbed.

"So did I!" Dean sighed.

The next morning Sam sat at the little table in the small motel room brushing his teeth for the seventh time when Dean finally came out of the bathroom after his sixths shower.

"I can't get the smell off!"

"I can't get the taste out of my mouth!" Sam sighed as he rushed to the sink. "and I itch all over and I lost count of the shots the doctors gave me last night and I threw up twice."

"That was one wild night wasn't it Sammy," Dean laughed.

"Can we just get outta here before the cops come around asking questions?" Sam asked, "Our anonyms tip has probably led them out to those bones and they are going to be looking for us now."

"What do you mean get out of here? I'm going to catch the last day of the festival," Dean stated as he rubbed a deodorant bar all over his upper body, "do I still stink?" he asked.

"Yes," Sam answered.

"How about now?" Dean asked as he used and air freshener from the car and stuffed it in his shirt pocket.

"Now you smell like swamp and pine."

Dean sighed, pulled off his shirt and walked back toward the bathroom.

"Dean, come on, we have to get out of here. The cops are going to head out to the swamp and find all those bones. We're in deep shit. We have to high tail it outta here."

"You were literally in deep shit last night," Dean laughed.

"It's not funny," Sam sighed

"Besides Sammy boy, we're not done here. There is another ghost we need to deal with." Dean stated. "He got into the impala last night. He knew my name and everything but just before I headed into the woods to save your sorry ass he disappeared."

"He was an old guy, about your height with silver grey hair and a beard like ZZ Top?" Sam asked.

"Yeah how did you know?" Dean asked.

"That was Jimmy McKewitt and you are going to leave him alone. He's a crowd favorite around these parts and we have to hit the highway!" Sam stated and grabbed his pack, Dean's pack and the keys to the impala.

"What are you doing Sammy; you aren't the least bit curious." Dean yelled as he rushed to follow his brother. "Since when have you met a ghost that wants to help people, or can get in and out of my car, fire a shot gun and carry on complete conversations, while calling me a dumbass?"

"He called a Dumbass?" Sam asked.

"Yes, because he caught me dozing," Dean stated.

"That is one ghost I'd love to hang out with. Jimmy is fine and isn't harming anyone; in fact, I think he's protecting them. So get in the car because I'm leaving with or without you!" Sam yelled from the driver's side of the car.

"Damnit Little Brother, you never let me have any fun!" Dean yelled as he ran and dove into the passenger seat just as Sam was pulling out of the parking space to leave the little town once and for all.

**The End**


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